


“Mon Mothma of Chandrila: Democracy’s Loyal Servant”

by Polgarawolf



Series: Star Wars: You Became to Me [48]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alliances, Anger, Battle, Civil War, Clones, Communication Failure, Crash Landing, Crush, Devotion, Dreams, Droids, Dysfunctional Jedi emotions and relationships, Exhaustion, Expanded Universe Characters, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Fantasizing, Fear, Fear of loss, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Handmaidens (sacrificial ethics), Hero Worship, Hiding, Hypocrisy, Illnesses, Injury, Jedi (sacrificial ethics), Jedi Code, Loss, Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Masks, Mentors, Near Death Experience, Obi-Wan Kenobi equals unrequited love (unless you're Anakin Skywalker), Original Character(s), Pain, Politics, Portents and Omens, Protectiveness, Psychological Trauma, Relief/joy, Running, Self-Esteem Issues, Sith, Sith machinations, Slavery, Trauma, Urban battlefield, War, Worry, dark side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-28
Updated: 2008-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polgarawolf/pseuds/Polgarawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is seventy-five random (but essentially chronological, if with some overlap) moments from the life of Mon Mothma of Chandrila, who is (in her time) the youngest ever human or near-human to be <i>elected</i> to the Senate. There is a story here – one small thread among the vast woven tapestry of life that is the living history of the galaxy, stretched out and twisted, knotted into the whole, curled down among the roots of time, connecting various moments together – but one must read between the lines to capture it. It is not precisely the truth, for the subtle story of these moments is sketched out here in words, and, in the sin of writing down a life, it inevitably changes the shape of things. But it is nevertheless a form of truth. (From a certain point of view . . . )</p>
            </blockquote>





	“Mon Mothma of Chandrila: Democracy’s Loyal Servant”

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** This story functions as a sort of compressed codex for Mon Mothma’s life (pretty much up until the end of the third book of _Thwarting the Revenge of the Sith_ as she has been and is going to be written in my not even nearly complete AU **Star Wars** series **_You Became to Me_**. If anything doesn’t make sense, please feel free to ask!
> 
>  **Author’s Notes: 1.)** Again, this is compatible with my SW AU series **_You Became to Me_** , including my _Thwarting the Revenge of the Sith_ trio, if you squint at a couple of things sideways and view a few others solely through the (somewhat selective in scope, slightly limited) lens of Mon Mothma’s eyes. **2.)** Although this is technically modeled on a prompt set that I borrowed from somewhere on the LJ (I don’t recall from where anymore, though if someone would like to set the record straight, I’ll add the info for the community in question here in my notes), it’s not really meant to function as a response to the challenge associated with that set. I just used the specific prompts to give me a reason to string together a backstory of sorts for Mon. **3.)** Readers may want to keep in mind that I’ve decided that, for simplicity’s sake, due to my current focus more on the prequel era of SW, Mon Mothma in _**You Became to Me**_ is always going to be physically modeled on the actress who portrays her in RotS (Genevieve O’Reilly) rather than on the actress who portrays her in RotJ (Caroline Blakiston) or on some odd/awkward attempt at combining the two actresses (though I suppose it might be acceptable to think of the Genevieve version of Mon Mothma as aging into the Caroline version, in a ’verse where she would be under constant stress, strain, and sorrow). Henceforth, though, I reserve the right to use Caroline Blakiston’s portrayal of Mon Mothma in RotJ as the visual/aural basis for Mon’s mother, Tanis, who will surface at some future point in _**You Became to Me**_. Also, in case I haven’t mentioned this anywhere yet, my Asajj Ventress is physically modeled on a very bald, properly tattooed Angelina Jolie! **4.)** Mon Mothma is very young, when this story opens (and a lot more sheltered, relatively speaking, than certain other fairly young characters, like Sabé and Padmé Amidala), but she is by no means unobservant or an idiot (hence, most of the relationships listed on this story)! **5.)** _Contemplanys Hermi_ is an actual term from the EU (Expanded Universe) that explains the relative political isolation of the Corellian system during much of the duration of the Clone Wars. Interested individuals might want to look the term up on the **Wookieepedia** website http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Wookieepedia for more information than I can cram in here, in my notes! **6.)** I don’t think this actually applies here, but for future reference readers might want to keep in mind that the Chandrilian language shares a common root language with Alderaanian, Grizmalltian, and Nabooian, and so words that appear Gaelic in nature or else modelled on Gaelic terms are meant to act as place-holders for non-Basic words in those languages. If readers ever come across anything that doesn’t make sense in context, please just ask, and I’ll send an English approximation for the word/term!
> 
>  **Story Notes:** **1.)** Since this is part of a larger on-going AU series that in some respects fairly closely mirrors or follows events of canon (up to a certain point, anyway), readers should please keep in mind that certain characters and events from the prequel movies/novelizations of the films and even events/places/people referenced in the EU or Expanded Universe may be mentioned or alluded to in this story. If anyone has any questions about whether someone or something is AU, canon, or EU canon, please feel free to ask! **2.)** Readers should probably be aware that I am roughly estimating (guestimating might be a better word) the original publication date for most of the character study pieces in the **_You Became to Me_** series (and indeed most of my stories, especially the ones written over a long period of time), based on when I roughed out notes for them in the story notebooks I carry everywhere with me and when I can recall having worked on certain groups of characters. The year is going to be accurate, but the month might be off and the day will almost certainly be randomly chosen, since the online account I had originally posted many of these stories to no longer exists. I tend to go back and edit things that are in series whenever I get the time or a new idea causes me to have to make room for something else plot-wise, and odds are good that a story could have been edited for typos as recently as the day of its posting here, but the original version will likely be much older and fairly close to the publication date that I attach to it, if anyone's curious!

 

**"Mon Mothma of Chandrila: Democracy’s Loyal Servant"**

 

 

 **01.) Lure:** The lure of politics isn’t power or prestige (though to be fair, she will admit that it is better than the hunt, a fight, a near fall, full of wild joy and challenge and unbridled energy), but rather the thought that perhaps she can do some good and bring a little more light and hope and justice to the galaxy, and, though her parents seem to hope that she’ll grow tired of the burden of responsibility (though really, they should know better. Her mother, Tanis, is Governor of Hanna City – which, being the capital city of Chandrila, essentially makes her Governor of Chandrila, after a fashion, though that is more a traditional than a practical title, her duties mainly devoted to the smooth, orderly running of Hanna City – while her father, Jothin, is an Arbiter-General of the Republic, and it is from them that she learned her sense of civic duty, from them that she learned it is not a privilege but a responsibility, a necessity, to serve), from the moment she’s first elected to the Senate, she knows, absolutely, that she’s found her true calling in life.  
  
 **02.) Bounce:** She can keep the ridiculously huge satisfied grin off of her face just barely, by concentrating and allowing herself a thin sliver of a smile, but the bounce she absolutely cannot keep out of her step, not after her first clear, clean win at dejarik against Bail Organa.  
  
 **03.) Throne:** She and Bail are often compared to each other, in the Senate, for Chandrila, like Alderaan, is a democratic constitutional monarchy; yet, whereas Alderaan has essentially always been ruled by one main family line (and its cadet branches, which have, over time, split off somewhat and evolved into three traditional ruling houses, some member of which is always the monarch of Alderaan essentially for life, once having proven himself or herself worthy of and suited for the position), Chandrila has always had seven noble houses from among which a new King or Queen is elected every ten years (with second terms being permitted for the same individual only after two terms out of the office, and with the same family being barred from ever taking the throne in consecutive elections), and so it’s been some time since the Mothma family has held the Chandrilan throne, though many residents of her homeworld were quite disappointed when she chose the Senate, given her gift for politics and diplomacy, evidently hoping that she would wait to pursue the monarchy, when a little bit older (since traditionally monarchs on Chandrila are not elected until at least halfway through their second decade of life, if not that far into their third), instead of going into the Galactic Senate as soon after coming into her majority as an adult (the age of Chandrilan majority traditionally being sixteen years of age) as she could prove herself worthy of being elected.  
  
 **04.) Know:** Mon Mothma knows Obi-Wan Kenobi – of _course_ she knows him! How could she not? Her mother was a good friend of and something of a mentor figure to Bail Organa’s elder sister, Merisol (her mother’s mother’s family having originally hailed from Alderaan and kept close ties with their good friends and demi-relatives, the Organas), until Merisol’s death, and Bail and his family were all at her naming day ceremony. If one of Bail’s younger brothers had survived that disastrous trip to Galidraan, it’s entirely possible that Mon would’ve been engaged to him or even wed, by now. It’s been accepted, ever since she made it clear that she wished to pursue a career in politics, that Bail would, as a matter of course, be her primary mentor in the galactic political arena. And it’s impossible to spend any great length of time in Bail’s presence and not hear something about the young Jedi who so utterly fascinates him. When she was about ten or so, she was quite certain that she was madly in love with Bail and that no one else could ever possibly suite her as well as a possible mate and that it was entirely Obi-Wan’s fault (and never mind the fact that, technically, due to the conditions of the final ruling of the Alderaan Ascendancy Contention, Bail was essentially already all but promised to a daughter of the Antilles family) that Bail never really seemed to notice her, much, aside from the brightness of her mind. She was a teen the first time she met Obi-Wan (briefly, during a summer spent with Bail’s family on Alderaan, studying galactic law and politics with his little sister, Alaina) and, despite herself, was so thoroughly impressed with the Padawan with the easy smile (and ever so slightly wicked grin) and seemingly unending wealth of knowledge about political structures local to the various planets and moons of myriad Republic systems that she had to admit to herself that she understood why Bail should be so taken with him – but her knowledge of him is more secondhand than personal (she’s quite sure that Obi-Wan wouldn’t know her name at all, if not for the fact that he’s friends with Bail) and she’s made it a personal rule to never allow the opinions of others to shape her own views (no matter how highly she might think of those others. She may no longer be a little girl with a ridiculous crush on a man who could never be hers, but it doesn’t mean she’s stopped admiring or even loving Bail. That love has simply . . . shifted to something less like adolescent hero-worship and more like the measured, thoughtful, sincerely respectful affection of a pupil and friend and all but honorary adoptive little sister to her mentor and friend and honorary older brother), and so she’s largely reserving judgment on the man . . . at least until she has a chance to get to know him a bit better for herself.  
  
 **05.) Curiosity:** She is the youngest human or near-human ever to be elected to the Galactic Senate, if not the youngest such ever to actually serve as a member upon it, and her curiosity about Sabé, the storied handmaiden and decoy for Queen Amidala of Naboo and first interim but now newly elected Senator for Naboo and the Chommell Sector, is so strong that she practically begs Bail to allow her accompany him when he goes to meet up with Obi-Wan Kenobi, so that they can all be there to greet her as the young Senator returns to Corsucant from Naboo.  
  
 **06.) First Impression:** Her first thought is that Sabé Dahn is as coldly unnatural and perfectly beautiful as a rose carved of unliving crystal; yet, when the young, newly elected (and so no longer merely interim) Senator of Naboo and the Chommell Sector spies Bail Organa and Obi-Wan Kenobi awaiting her practically at the foot of the ship’s ramp, her eyes and her face flood with life and light up with easy, open joy, and Mon has to admit that her first impression had been entirely false, for Sabé the woman is radiantly alive and stunningly gorgeous, whereas the mask of the Senator is an unnatural, cold, distant façade she merely puts on to protect herself.  
  
 **07.) Friends:** Sabé is guarded around her, at first, though she appears to regard Bail’s open approval of Mon and Obi-Wan’s gracious acceptance of her as a protégée of sorts of Bail’s as high marks in her favor, and so also seems inclined to be friendly; thus, though it takes a little while, after a few months, they manage to discover that they share so many similar or virtually identical viewpoints on morality and justice and loyalty and duty and basic sentient rights that they inevitably become fast friends and close allies in the Senate.  
  
 **08.) Charm:** It’s quite plain to her that Sabé adores and pines for and worries constantly about her Queen, but it’s equally obvious to Mon that the young Nabooian is helplessly in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and so she has to wonder, a little bemusedly, just how far that young Jedi’s charm extends, for it’s common knowledge among Bail’s staff that the young Queen of Naboo is just as besotted with Obi-Wan as Bail is, and Mon’s rarely known anyone to love someone else as loyally and as fiercely and as silently as Bail loves Obi-Wan.  
  
 **09.) Forbidden:** After about the dozenth time apiece in the space of about a week that she’s tried to comm Sabé or Bail only to find either him sharing an intimate looking meal with Obi-Wan or else her in the midst of an extremely private looking meeting with Obi-Wan (if not vice versa) she seriously starts to wonder why there aren’t more trashy HoloVid dramas made about Jedi having forbidden love affairs, especially given how much in the media the two Senators and the young Jedi Master so often are, and can’t decide whether to be amused or appalled by their apparent utter lack of care or concern about what their closeness might look like, to outsiders, given that, even though she’s perfectly aware of the fact that Obi-Wan is one of the few members of his Order who’s actually taken steps of some sort that literally negate the possibility of such sordid trysts (though she doesn’t even begin to understand the process – and doesn’t _want_ to understand the process, either, to be perfectly honest. The whole thing strikes her as a horrible waste and as terribly unnatural and seriously makes her wonder about both the ethics and the intelligence of allowing the Republic to rely so heavily on the protection of an Order that makes such demands of its members that someone like Obi-Wan would and could feel moved to do . . . _that_ to himself, in order to meet those demands), she’s also painfully aware of the fact that there are individuals involved in the media who care far less about facts and truth than they do about scandal and gossip and what they consider to be memorable stories.  
  
 **10.) Falling:** There are times when she catches herself wanting to simply shout at Obi-Wan to _look_ at her and truly see _Mon Mothma_ – not just the protégée of Bail or the good friend of Sabé – and she worries that she may be falling for the Jedi’s considerable charm as well, so much so that she deliberately takes to avoiding him and to looking elsewhere than his direction and remaining silent while in his company, so he’ll have no such reason to take notice of her.  
  
 **11.) Cursed:** There are days when she thoroughly hates her accursed fair skin and the way it makes her anger and her embarrassment so very plain for others to see that she catches herself seriously eying tanning products, even though she knows that they’d probably make her look ridiculous and most likely wouldn’t do enough to camouflage her embarrassed blushes and furious flushes anyway.  
  
 **12.) Infuriating:** Bail used to be a good friend of Garm Bel Iblis, back before the Corellian got married and his political views suddenly all seemed to shift just a little bit too far to allow them to agree on much of anything or even to converse comfortably anymore, but personally she finds the man so utterly infuriating that she can’t for the life of her understand why Bail tries so hard to remain on fairly good terms with the cocksure Corellian Senator.  
  
 **13.) Ordinary:** Mon can’t be bothered with elaborate wardrobe or makeup or hairstyles or jewelry (it isn’t in her nature and it isn’t really according to Chandrilan custom, either . . . at least not outside the traditional ceremonies and certain formalities that are still held to among the members of the ruling court), and so there are days when she feels distinctly small and dull and ordinary – not to mention vastly underdressed! – when faced with the (obviously expensive) highly intricate and artful garb of Sabé the Senator or (worse, given that the complexity and richness of Amidala’s wardrobe and hair and makeup and jewelry can often make even Sabé’s most detailed and complicated costumes seem artless and simple to the point of quaintness) of Sabé’s Queen.  
  
 **14.) Message:** The message Sabé left when she commed is so garbled that all Mon can gather is that the Queen of Naboo is in hysterics over her elder sister’s miscarriage and that Sabé is with her but she couldn’t get through to Obi-Wan when she tried to comm the Temple and can’t seem to do or say anything to give her grieving friend and Queen any kind of peace of mind, and so Mon instantly drops everything to go and see if there’s anything she can possibly do to help, even though she isn’t certain that it’s at all proper for her to be there if Amidala truly is that distraught over a loss in the family.  
  
 **15.) Abyss:** It’s like an abyss has unexpectedly opened up beneath her feet and swallowed her whole, and she would have sworn only a moment earlier that she was smarter than this, more strong-willed and certainly more practical and rational (not to mention sensible!) than this, but nothing keeps her heart from flying out of her chest and landing squarely at Obi-Wan Kenobi’s feet, not after she’s arrived at the Queen of Naboo’s quarters (one floor above those given over to the Senator of her world and the sector of which her world is but a small part) and seen how tenderly and attentively he’s taking care of Amidala.  
  
 **16.) Real:** Amidala becomes truly real to her as Padmé and as an actual living person – someone capable of loving and worthy of being loved, in return – only after Mon has witnessed first-hand the extent to which Padmé is truly capable of suffering, of grieving, and she finds herself feeling incredibly ashamed to realize that she’d actually thought so little of and so poorly of the woman (due to her perception of the way her handmaidens – young girls like Sabé, all! – seem to bear the brunt of all the real danger to her as well as Padmé’s obvious infatuation with and reliance upon Obi-Wan), before, given the unavoidable realization as to just how much Padmé risks, by simply being the Queen of Naboo, and just how hypocritical it is of Mon to look down on Padmé for loving Obi-Wan when Mon herself (despite knowing better and in spite of all the examples of just how such tender emotions fail to get anyone anywhere, when it comes to the young Jedi in question) is also thoroughly infatuated with him.  
  
 **17.) Break:** Her badly bruised heart breaks completely in two when she finds out that Padmé’s older sister, Sola, truly has lost a child (her second child and her second loss to a traumatically-induced miscarriage) due to a nasty wound she took in a badly botched and misdirected attempt on her younger sister’s life, at the ceremonial announcement of Amidala’s acceptance of the formal nomination for a second term in office as Naboo’s Queen, and she wishes so very badly that she could justify simply dropping everything and going to Naboo with Sabé, to be there with Padmé during the aftermath of this terrible tragedy, that she breaks down and cries with relief when Sheltay comes and offers her a place on the _Tantive IV_ , with Bail, who has graciously offered to carry both Sabé and Obi-Wan – as well as the distraught young Queen of Naboo, who technically isn’t even supposed to be on Coruscant, but whose absence from both the ceremonial acceptance and the world of Naboo itself has nonetheless somehow or another been kept a secret by her family and her loyal handmaidens – to Naboo for a week-long visit, for "diplomatic purposes and the keeping of good relations" with the Nabooian monarchy.  
  
 **18.) Avoid:** During the flight to Naboo, she at first does everything in her power to avoid Obi-Wan Kenobi, given the unsettling realization that she’s more than halfway to being in love with the man (on top of simply quite helplessly loving him, for the wonderfully kind and caring and considerate and polite and intelligent being he is), until Sabé finally flat out demands to know why Mon’s avoiding the young Jedi as though he were a carrier of plague, and she once again finds herself cursing her fair skin, as her blushes give her away (much to the initial amusement but also ultimately the shared sorrow and empathy of the even more thoroughly smitten Sabé.  
  
 **19.) Unreciprocated:** Mon knows that she’s not the first and that she most certainly won’t be the last to suffer an entirely unreciprocated crush on this particular young Jedi Knight and Master, but it burns her, nonetheless, that she could be so foolish as to let herself fall in love with him, too, when she’s been so careful to try to avoid doing so and she knows so absolutely, from watching Bail and Sabé and even Padmé Amidala, that her love both of and for him will never be either fully understood or ever returned in any real way she might desire it to be and so will bring nothing but a new source (as if she needs another!) of sorrow and frustration into her life.  
  
 **20.) Seer:** After a few years in which to study the man, Mon Mothma begins to suspect that Obi-Wan Kenobi may, perhaps, be an unconscious (or at least largely unaware) seer of uncommon strength, for every time something bad seems to happen that requires him to essentially drop everything else and go to Padmé to help comfort her and give her the strength and focus she needs to recover from some new disaster, it also seems as if Anakin rather conveniently is either off on some kind of group trip with other younglings or Padawans his age to gather supplies for the Temple, undergoing seclusion with another instructor at the Temple for some sort of private tutoring, or else is ill enough to be quarantined in the Healers’ Ward and permitted contact with others only via comm or holopad messaging, thus allowing Obi-Wan to obey the High Council’s rather ridiculous and unfair and otherwise (if not for all of these odd coincidences of Anakin’s absence from Obi-Wan’s side for just as long as is required to keep him unaware of the time his Master is spending with Padmé, that is) seemingly quite impossible to abide by (in her not so very humble opinion) demand that Anakin be kept away from Padmé until much closer to his Knighting, so that the attachment he formed to her in the brief time they knew each other, during the Nabooian crisis with the Trade Federation, (supposedly) won’t be encouraged to strengthen.  
  
 **21.) Puzzle:** Anakin Skywalker is a puzzle to which she wishes she dared devote more time for the solving, for there are depths of kindness and intelligence and sympathy and patience and loyalty and love in the young Padawan that are evident in his more private interactions with his Master that somehow largely seem to subsume themselves in a mask of almost petulant boyish stubbornness and bravado and heedless haste and nervous energy when he’s in the company of many (especially if that company includes other Jedi, most particularly if they are Jedi Masters), and she has a feeling that there is a mystery and a story there that she is missing out on the knowing of and which she wants desperately to understand, though she does not quite dare to simply come out and ask either the Padawan or his Master why the boy seems to be trying so very hard to convince the Jedi Order that he’s as thoughtless and prideful and reckless and antsy and hormonal as any normal teenaged boy would be.  
  
 **22.) Life:** Once she’s come to feel as if she truly understands Sabé’s friend and Queen as _Padmé_ , and not just as Amidala, Mon cannot, for the life of her, understand what it is that makes Sabé and Padmé feel so constrained to remain apart, for it’s quite obvious to her that both women are desperately lonely and miss one another and love each other and would be far happier (and likely also much stronger and more productive) if they were together instead of constantly separated by upwards of half the length of the known galaxy!  
  
 **23.) Fascination:** She’s never understood the fascination some beings have with the notion of true love or with there being but one true pairing for every sentient being somewhere out there in the galaxy, for she’s heard of and seen and personally known too many beings who’ve fiercely and truly and devotedly loved more than one mate of heart and soul, over the course of a lifetime, and she herself is quite certain that her quietly helpless adoration of Obi-Wan Kenobi will no more keep her from being able to passionately and truly love the mate of her spirit, whenever she happens to eventually find that individual, than, say, the loss of a beloved spouse would be able to keep a body from eventually finding, falling in love with, and remarrying someone else perfectly capable of completing the heart and soul left barren and broken and echoingly empty by the loss of that first spouse.  
  
 **24.) Bare:** She _hates_ that damned Bel Iblis, with his swagger and his condescending mien and his knowing smirk and his suggestive little smiles (whenever he speaks of her and Bail or of her and Sabé or of Sabé and Padmé or of Padmé and Obi-Wan or even, hell, of any of them and Obi-Wan! His suggestive manner of speech and the way that his words seem _deliberately_ calculated to get under her skin are _not_ funny, no matter what Sabé seems to think, and the man is neither all that roguishly charming, as Padmé seems to believe, nor particularly clever, as Bail so mistakenly believes!) and the way he can make her feel positively naked, just by looking at her a certain way (and not just unclothed, but positively bare, all the way down to her soul, as if he can somehow read the very shape of the thoughts in her mind and the movements of her heart in her breast, and takes infinite amusement from the form and tenor of both), and she does not hesitate to tell or to show the bragging, boastful, unbelievably arrogant and pigheaded man _exactly_ what she thinks of him . . . though she has the strangest feeling, later, that showing him her hatred has somehow only made her even more open and vulnerable to him.  
  
 **25.) Bound:** Though the mask of Amidala has long since given way to the reality of Padmé, for Sabé’s sake, Mon’s first response is still affronted fury with the now former Queen of Naboo, for thinking it’s alright to just waltz in and take Sabé’s rightfully elected place, as Senator of Naboo and for the Chommell Sector, though Padmé so clearly would rather be elsewhere that her anger quickly fades first to puzzlement and then to sympathetic pity, at the realization that the young woman apparently feels so duty-bound to serve that she’s given up the desire to start of family of her own in order to obey the wishes of her newly elected Queen and take over as Senator, while Sabé returns to Naboo to help train up proper handmaidens for the new Queen and Senator.  
  
 **26.) Act:** Though she is not, herself, convinced that it is the best possible response to the threat of Separatism to rearm the Galactic Republic, and she knows that the Senator adheres to and upholds (at least in the main) Naboo’s reputation for peacefulness, she is, nonetheless, at least a little bit surprised that Padmé should be so strongly set against the proposed Military Creation Act, given that so many worlds from the Colonies to the Mid Rim and Outer Rim Territories are so very vulnerable to being seized outright or else bullied (by threat of force) into obeying the wishes of greedy and power-hungry corporations and conglomerates like the Trade Federation and the Commerce Guild and the Techno Union and that the alternative to raising a combined army and navy force with both the numbers and the armaments needed to truly guard against such threats is to rely ever more on the waning numbers of the Jedi for protection – something she has more than once heard Padmé argue against passionately, stating that the sentient beings of the galaxy have no right to demand that the Jedi do most of the work involved in providing much of the known galaxy with an atmosphere of peace and justice and safety, if those same sentient beings aren’t also willing to work to uphold and protect and even fight for such values in their own little parts of the galaxy themselves – and she can’t help but be at least a little confused over Padmé’s outright refusal to support the rearmament proposal, given that the Republic’s blatant failure to protect Naboo from invasion by the Trade Federation wouldn’t have been nearly so potentially problematic if Naboo had only been permitted the protection of its own army and naval forces . . . protection that, in turn, could, if adopted by enough other worlds of the Republic, go a long way towards lessening the terrible strain (born of too many demands and not enough Jedi to ever be able to successfully answer them all) being placed on the Jedi Order.  
  
 **27.) Descent:** The descent into war and chaos is like watching a wreck in slow motion: there’s an awful sense of inevitability to the whole thing, though one cannot quite help but hope that a miracle will occur and somehow either stop the disaster from happening or else intervene in such a way as to keep the very absolute worst from happening.  
  
 **28.) Holiday:** It seems horribly wrong, to her, that the war should begin on a holiday, and she cannot help but feel as if someone, somewhere, is laughing at them all in sheer maliciously malignant and mocking joy.  
  
 **29.) Pride:** When the continuation of the war has become inevitable and Garm Bel Iblis attempts to simply selfishly (and like the coward he truly is!) seal off the whole of the Corellian Sector from it by invoking _Contemplanys Hermi_ and going into an unspecified time of self-declared political isolation (meant to last the duration of the Clone Wars and whatever period of cleanup is required, afterwards, no doubt!), Mon takes a certain grim pride in pointing out that she never really liked or found the man to be very trustworthy, and studiously ignores the disappointment that momentarily flashes across Bail’s dark, pained eyes.  
  
 **30.) Obsess:** She tries and _tries_ not to obsesses about him, like everyone else she knows and respects seems to do: even leaving aside how extremely dangerous the galaxy has lately become, though, it’s very hard to try to avoid acknowledging concern for someone so extraordinarily special even when she’s not speaking to her friends (and, thus, hearing them fret about him); thus, in the end, she’s forced to simply give it up as a bad job and give in to the urge to worry about Obi-Wan while he’s out there, fighting, because of this damned war.  
  
 **31.) Mystical:** There’s an odd, almost mystical quality to the way most Chandrilans regard the Force (as an unending source of light and life and growth), but she tries her damnedest to be logical and pragmatic about everything touching on Obi-Wan (out of some idea – probably ultimately useless but at least reassuring to her – that being rational about such things can help maintain a properly decorous distance between them), even though it gives her such a strange, shivery feeling whenever she’s in the presence of a Jedi using the Force that she often feels as though this must be what it’s like to have a truly religious experience.  
  
 **32.) Text:** By the end of the first year of the Clone Wars, the text is on the datapad screen display for anyone who wants to read it; yet, the galaxy seems determined to ignore the truth about Palpatine, so she hesitates not even a heartbeat before answering with a resoundingly firm _yes_ , when Bail quietly broaches the subject of needing to gather allies in the event of a worst case scenario involving Palpatine and any attempt to dissolve the Senate’s power or structure.  
  
 **33.) Melancholy:** There’s a certain melancholy to Bail, whenever Obi-Wan goes for much more than a week or so without comming (to check in . . . though she’s never been quite able to decide if it’s more to stop Bail and the others from worrying or to help reassure the Jedi Bendu that all’s still relatively well with them), and she tries extremely hard to avoid dwelling on that when she’s invited to visit Alderaan and meet with his wife to discuss certain matters touching on the relocation of war refugees, because she admires Bail desperately and loves him like an older brother or a beloved uncle and doesn’t want to have to admit (even to herself) that what he’s doing, with Obi-Wan, essentially amounts to taking part in a rather blatant affair of the heart.  
  
 **34.) Honest:** If she’s perfectly, brutally honest with herself, she has to admit that she’s had more than a few daydreams (and some not so very innocent nocturnal fantasies, too) that involve Obi-Wan and at least one of the three people she personally knows would unhesitatingly sell their souls to be with him, but it embarrasses her horribly to think about such things, especially when she has to work with at least one (and sometimes two) of them on an all but daily basis, and so she tries very, very hard to repress both such thoughts and such flights of fancies (even though she knows, logically, that the fantasies are more of a safety valve than anything else, and that her mind has latched on _specifically_ to these individuals because they are safe choices, because they are _impossible_ choices, because they are individuals she honestly need not ever worry about some day possibly returning any of her ridiculously childlike hero-worship and thoughtlessly open affection and mindless, helpless attraction, individuals who are beautiful and kind and wonderful and worthy of admiration and who like and respect her well enough but who are far too busy with their own lives and far too thoroughly ensnared in the webs of their own personal dramas, their own tragic loves and desires, to ever even see enough of her to notice the truth of her and so be tempted to look even closer and, thus, to perhaps begin the long fall into love).  
  
 **35.) Mundane:** There’s a certain rhythm to the work that can, after awhile, make even the most desperately important of tasks seem tediously repetitive and mundane; however, the day that she finds herself calmly discussing what amounts to treason with a dozen close colleagues (friends and strong allies in the Senate, all) over afternoon tea is also the day that she ends up locking herself in the ’fresher for nearly an hour and alternating between laughing hysterically and sobbing bitterly as the water beats down on her curled back, unable to bring herself to quite believe how completely and horrible wrong things have gone in so relatively short a time.  
  
 **36.) Worn:** There is an increasingly care-worn (worn thin, in a way that distressingly calls to mind someone suffering from a long-standing illness) and distracted air to the former Queen of Naboo, and Mon finds herself going out of her way to offer Padmé hot tea and nutritionally filling (and not just stickily sweet or bite-sized and inconsequential) refreshments and to make sure that she’s always comfortably seated, every time she comes to visit, as well as comming Sabé over and over, trying to ask if she knows if Padmé has been ill or perhaps received some kind of personal bad news from home lately, even though Sabé seems more and more tight-lipped and distant every time Mon tries to talk to her.  
  
 **37.) Solitude:** Occasionally, there are times when she craves solitude and quiet in the same fiercely implacable manner she’s been told that addicts will crave spice; the moods are quite infrequent and only rarely last longer than a few hours before she once again wants to be among the bustle and noise of the Senate or her busy offices, though, so she generally manages to simply ignore them by making herself go on about whatever it was that she happened to be doing when they first hit until the mood and the urge both eventually go away again and she’s left to continue her work and to see to her duties in peace.  
  
 **38.) Jaded:** This war has made them all jaded, even the Jedi, and it breaks her heart, when she thinks about it and knows how completely trust in the basic decency and goodness of one’s fellow sentient beings has left so much of the known galaxy.  
  
 **39.) Depressing:** Some get antsy and fidgety and snappish during the periods of waiting to see how a battle or a diplomatic mission (or some other, less than diplomatic operation) will go, but she just finds the times when all they can do is sit and wait and hope for things to turn out alright to be thoroughly depressing, such is her longing to be out and doing something measurably good.  
  
 **40.) Anticipation:** The anticipation of a move on Palpatine’s part against the Senate is starting to wear on her: her dreams have begun to resemble bad HoloVid dramas about hidden saboteurs and suspected traitors and wrongly accused criminals, where before she almost always dreamed of either the people she knows and loves or of home (or both).  
  
 **41.) Sensible:** It’s not at all sensible to support what’s plainly becoming a pro-human Core Worlds based oligarchy headed by a man who’s essentially already become a dictator in everything but name, and she wishes to goodness that more beings could understand that and stop looking at her askance every time she tries to challenge or oppose the giving over of yet more of the Senate’s power to that blasted man!  
  
 **42.) Power:** The power wielded by the Jedi would frighten her, if she didn’t know how absolute their training (and their conditioning) to an almost unnatural level of selfless devotion to the Force and to justice and democracy and the Galactic Republic is, and so the thought of such power in the hands of some power-crazy psychopath of a Sith Lord frankly terrifies her.  
  
 **43.) Hidden:** It’s a delicate sort of balance to strike, keeping their activities hidden enough to avoid absolute detection by Palpatine and yet remaining open enough in their aims to attract new allies, but between her and Bail and Sheltay, she’s fairly certain that they’ve managed to do it.  
  
 **44.) Desolate:** Bail is utterly desolate, not just inconsolable but entirely unable to face even the prospect that the High Council might be right and Obi-Wan might have fallen in battle (like so many other good and courageous Jedi have, since this war started), and she finds that she cannot blame him for his reaction at all, for what will the galaxy do, without the Team and the Chosen One (who seems nothing more now than a distraught child utterly in denial over the loss of a loved one) to save them and strike balance within the Force?  
  
 **45.) Insanity:** Joy and complete, absolute, utter relief combine to form a particularly sweet kind of insanity, and she’s been swept up by Bail and swung in several rapid, dizzying revolutions that trace a wild spiral across the room, her laughing face smothered with wildly happy kisses, and is responding and capturing his mouth with hers in a kind of frenzied abandon before her brain can catch up enough with what’s going on and where she is and who she’s with or any of the thousand other reasons why this is such a very, very bad idea.  
  
 **46.) Chagrin:** It’s more than chagrin, but it’s not quite shock and it’s not quite shame and it’s not quite regret, and her brain and her heart just can’t quite keep up with what’s happening enough to sort everything out quickly enough for her to get a handle on the emotions that flood her, after that single wild kiss, because the comm chimes again, and the news this time is that Anakin is bringing Obi-Wan back to the Temple for healing after his long imprisonment by Asajj Ventress, and there’s no time to do anything then but hurry to where they’re going to need to be, to meet the ship when it comes in.  
  
 **47.) Façade:** Her façade of distant coolness and serene remove is utterly broken: she runs for the ship (and the obviously distraught form of Padmé Amidala, somehow already there and waiting and shivering in an agony of worried anticipation by the place where the ramp should, by all rights, be lowering at any moment now), hiking up her white skirts and racing along at Bail’s heels, desperate not to be outpaced or left behind, desperate to be there when they offload, so that she can see for herself how badly Obi-Wan’s been hurt by that karking bitch Ventress.  
  
 **48.) Man:** She isn’t sure why she’s never noticed before that Anakin Skywalker is a man, now, and not a boy any longer, but the fiercely protective look her turns against all of them – from her to Bail and even to Padmé (someone whose good opinion he cares about so much that he would normally allow anything and everything, even if it might bring him into conflict with the Order’s High Council Masters) – as he orders them to either get back and make room for the Healers to get to Obi-Wan or be prepared to be _moved_ back, by him, following by the frankly tender and loving care he lavishes on his unconscious Master, as he helps the Healers get the badly battered (and obviously tortured, from what little they can see, from where they’ve been forced to withdraw across the landing bay) Jedi Master down to the portable bacta tank they’ve wheeled out for him, is enough to convince her that the child has not only grown into a man, but has become a man who’s even more thoroughly in love than any of the three them (or Sabé or anyone else who may’ve happened to fall for the young Jedi Master) with (and, in turn, more well loved by) Obi-Wan Kenobi.  
  
 **49.) Tears:** Padmé is crying silently, tears rolling continuously down her face like fat raindrops, as they watch Anakin and the Jedi Healers rush Obi-Wan away, into the Healers’ Ward, but Mon doesn’t even notice – too caught up in the sudden revelation that Anakin Skywalker has become a man (and a man in love, and a man who is – in some way she cannot quite lay her finger on but is, nonetheless, quite sure of – loved in return in a way that differs from the obvious affection Obi-Wan bears for individuals like Bail and Padmé and Sabé, though she’s certain that it’s not a romantic love . . . at least not yet) – and it isn’t until Bail awkwardly reaches out to pat Padmé’s nearest slender shoulder and murmurs something about how he’s sure they’ll both be alright and that the Healers will let them know, if Anakin doesn’t, and Padmé breaks down and begins to sob, violently and messily, with the kind of helpless abandon that comes from far too much grief and exhaustion, that Mon even notices how upset her friend truly is.  
  
 **50.) Hatred:** There’s no escaping some facts: she is a Senator because she genuinely believes in democracy and peace and her nature is such that she needs to know that she is actively working to help and safeguard as many beings as she possibly can; she loves Obi-Wan Kenobi (it’s not just a crush. She loves him. She may not be _in_ love with him, but she _does_ love him, as surely and as undeniably as stars burn and give off light through their burning. She thinks, sometimes, that her situation might not be too far removed from that of a very young girl with a crush – and a bad case of hero-worship – on a beloved older sibling’s mate, who gradually, through the years, learns love and respect and admiration for the joy that mate brings to her sibling), though not nearly as much as Sabé or Padmé or Bail (all individuals she feels deep respect and affection for, loving them as if they were her blood), and though all of their love taken together probably wouldn’t add up to even a fraction of the love someone else indubitably feels for Obi-Wan; and what she feels for Asajj Ventress, for what she did to Obi-Wan Kenobi (and, by extension, to her and to Bail and to Padmé and to Sabé and, Force bless, to _Anakin_ , whose love for his Master is so very like a beacon that she can’t even begin to understand how she possibly could have ever missed seeing it, before), is pure, unreasoning, blood-boiling, _"I’ll gorram well kill the bald bitch with my own two bare hands if I ever happen to see her in person,"_ implacable hatred.  
  
 **51.) Dream:** Nestled in amongst her dreams that night is a shockingly intimate image of Anakin and Obi-Wan, curled together in a tangle of bare limbs and sheets, wound so closely around each other that she finds it almost impossible to tell where one body leaves off and the next begins, and she stuns herself by waking from the dream smiling, cheeks wet with tears.  
  
 **52.) Secret:** Bail doesn’t seem to think anything of the brief moment of madness when their mouths collided, perhaps because he’s lived with the fact of his unfaithful heart for all of the years of his marriage to Breha (having been in love with Obi-Wan for a long time prior to his agreement to wed her, long before the injunction of Jorus C’baoth to bind the Ogana and Antilles families together through marriage, so that something like the Alderaan Ascendancy Contention could never arise again, would result in their largely politically motivated union); yet, she feels awkward and strange and oddly guilty for what amounts to little more than one rather less than peaceful kiss at the end of what amounts to several dozen rapidly and randomly bestowed kisses of peace, as if she’s keeping some awful secret, and her bizarre dreams don’t help matters any (especially not when she realizes that Bail still sees a recently freed slave child when he looks at Anakin Skywalker, instead of the shockingly strong, startlingly beautiful, gilded-golden young man he’s patently become!), though she eventually manages to put it out of her mind and go back to concentrating on their shared work and trying to figure out how much Padmé might support them in their endeavors, if they ever gather up enough courage to ask her to join them.  
  
 **53.) Technology:** It isn’t that they don’t have the technology to end this war – technically, if they _really_ wanted to, they could, one way or another, destroy every single planet, moon, and station that the Separatists have a foothold on or have ever even touched with their presence – but the thing is, most members of the Senate would prefer to find a peaceful solution to this conflict that would ultimately keep as many of the planets and populations of the galaxy intact (or at least as close to intact) as is possible, and the thought of actual genocide is thankfully still sufficiently awful (and unpopular) to give even Palpatine and his Sand Panthers pause enough to keep them from openly challenging that desire in open forum.  
  
 **54.) Astrology:** She puts absolutely no truck whatsoever in things like sabacc card readings and astrology, but she has to admit that there’s something a little bit unsettling about the fact that essentially all of the fortune tellers and soothsayers and diviners (even the self-admitted dabblers and amateurs) are claiming that the omens all point to the ending of an epoch very soon.  
  
 **55.) Breakdown:** The breakdown in the democratic process is ridiculous, and there are days when she feels like they have no right whatsoever anymore to claim to be a Republic . . . and that, perhaps, it might not be so very bad, after all, if this war does turn out to mark the ending of an age, for surely something better, something cleaner, something less corrupt and more perfect would have to follow, after such a struggle . . . wouldn’t it?  
  
 **56.) Machine:** Everyone speaks of the government as if it were some sort of malfunctioning machine; if she’s honest, though, she has to admit that the political machine isn’t so much breaking down as it’s being stripped of all its vital components and weighted down with so many extraneous (not just nonessential but utterly nonfunctional) parts that it just does not and cannot work properly at all anymore.  
  
 **57.) Miscommunication:** There’s been so much misunderstanding and trickery – so many acts of unintentional miscommunication and so many instances of deliberate bad faith – committed between the Republic and the Separatists that, on bad days, she finds herself wondering if they ever will be able to broker a real, lasting peace if both sides are still standing when the war ends.  
  
 **58.) Variety:** Variety is supposed to be the spice of life, but the kind of variety that comes of living on a world that numbers amongst the attacked instead of being a resident of a planet responding to some other Separatist attack elsewhere is something that she could frankly well do entirely without!  
  
 **59.) Sarcasm:** There’s a hint of sarcasm in Padmé’s voice when she refers to the Chancellor as their fearless leader that almost makes her break out into hysterical laughter, and only the all too grim aspects of the two Jedi searching for Palpatine – coupled with the thought that those Jedi would surely give their lives up for the Supreme Chancellor’s safety, if called upon to do so – keeps her from at least breaking out into a spate of helpless giggles.  
  
 **60.) Garden:** Somewhere in the midst of all the running and searching, the thought occurs to her that Palpatine has them playing seek and find like children in a garden maze when the city-world itself is all but in flames around them, and that it is entirely possible that he _does_ suspect them of sedition, after all, and has deliberately engineered his rather conveniently timed disappearance to keep his all too caring, humane, and seemingly loyal (even while essentially being borderline traitors to him, personally, and his government, if not to democracy or the spirit of the Republic itself) colleagues busy inside the Senate Rotunda, so that they’ll eventually be trapped in an obvious zone of fire for the attacking Separatists; the thought is paranoid even for her, though, and she soon dismisses it as both unhelpful and unworthy of her.  
  
 **61.) Transmit:** She’s in the midst of transmitting their current location and intended destination to their three frantic separate senatorial staffs when she distinctly hears Bail whisper, "The price is too high – Force forgive me, but I can’t ignore that any long," just before he half turns in his seat to shout, "Everyone hang on!" and Threepio wails something about being doomed and the whole world seems to explode into noise and pain and red-streaked darkness.  
  
 **62.) Mutual:** The rule is supposed to be that you see your life flash before your eyes, when you have a near-death experience; instead, though, all she hears and sees (as she’s rushing towards a collision with the back of the seat in front of her that will end up plummeting her into brief spate of unconsciousness) is every single shared memory she has with the two people in the skimmer with her (and also one person conspicuously absent, hopefully safe on faraway Naboo) of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and an odd sense that a door somewhere that had been barricaded firmly shut is being quite forcibly blasted back off of its hinges.  
  
 **63.) Hell:** Hell is regaining consciousness in a crashed skimmer (which happens to be carrying two of your best friends in all the worlds) in the midst of a very literal war zone and having more than good enough reason to suspect that you either are or will be the only survivor of the crash.  
 **64.) Encounter:** She remembers her first encounter with Padmé Amidala vividly – she had been in a closeted meeting of one of the Senate sub-committees she was a member of the previous evening, when the Queen arrived on Coruscant, and so missed her arrival altogether and assumed she wouldn’t see her at all, until issued a formal invitation to visit, and so she’d been sitting with Sabé, discussing refugees from the pre-war troubles in the Outer Rim and expecting company not at all, when the sound of laughter and running footsteps quite suddenly heralded the young Queen’s arrival as, flushed and disheveled, she burst into Sabé’s solarium from out of the rooftop garden’s hedge maze, crying out, "Obi-Wan’s after me – you have to help me hide before he sees me: I want the game to last as long as possible!" – as well as the thought she hadn’t been able to help having, at that unexpected meeting (as the two eerily similar young women quickly joined forces and darted off into the interior of the apartment complex, bare moments before an oddly not all that very Jedi-ish seeming, laughing and rumpled young Knight swiftly bolted into the solarium and took off after them), about how only lovers could or would have indulged in such playful antics; yet, still (despite both her certainty that Padmé and Sabé were once lovers and that it most likely would be far better for both women if they were to become so again, and the unmissable love both women ever after so obviously bore for Obi-Wan from the moment of first meeting him), Mon cannot quite keep her jaw from dropping at the sudden implication that perhaps she might have been right all along.  
  
 **65.) Invisible:** She feels invisible as a ghost as Bail is taken from her and the Healers and med-droids swiftly set to work on the badly injured Crown Prince, and it occurs to her as if from a distance, as she watches them, that she’s very likely in shock and could perhaps do with some medical attention herself; she can’t quite summon enough presence of mind to do anything about it, though, her thoughts far too occupied with the shocking revelation (that she’s fairly certain she heard a-right and is interpreting correctly) of Padmé’s last words.  
  
 **66.) Twilight:** Twilight has long since fallen on the day and the subsequent coming of night has been broken by two sunrises and is reigning unbroken by daylight once again before they are finally certain enough of Bail to declare that he’ll not only live but should take no true lasting harm from any of his many injuries, and it’s only then, after Mon has collapsed into exhausted slumber and regained enough energy and focus to wake up enough to finally start thinking about getting out of the emergency medical center, that she learns that the Team has pulled off yet another miracle and made it back to Coruscant with the Supreme Chancellor safely in tow.  
  
 **67.) Data:** The data just doesn’t add up, no matter how hard she tries to process it and make sense of it all, and so she finally makes her way straight to the Temple and demands entrance, declaring that she has news that she must and will only share with Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and that she’ll wait as long as she has to in order to do just that.  
  
 **68.) Wasteland:** The instant Obi-Wan comprehends what she’s trying to tell him (and what Padmé had undoubtedly been trying to say, irregardless of what Mon might’ve thought she heard), a wasteland blooms in his eyes, and the strength of his obvious pain is such that it hits her like a solid body blow, violently driving all the air out of her lungs and stopping her heart painfully within her chest, making her gasp after air less out of the knowledge that she needs to breathe again than from the violence of the desire to cry out from the force of his agony and suffering, the urge to simply reach out and embrace him, to try to provide him with at least some small measure of comfort (despite that painfully forbidding mien, in spite of the fact that he is already drawing away, as though sensing her instinct to reach out to him), burning through her like wildfire; yet, she doesn’t quite dare to touch him again, though she almost finds herself weeping with desperation (teeth bearing down with savage strength on the inside of her bottom lip – more than enough to break the skin and flood her mouth with the tangy sour metallic taste of her own blood – to keep her from crying out that he knows her and she is his friend and she would gladly do anything and everything within her power help him, if he would only just let her), she wishes so very badly that he would look on her with the kind eyes of an associate and ally instead of the coldly remote stare of a stranger.  
  
 **69.) Scars:** However clichéd it may sound, the simple truth of the matter is that there are some scars that never fade, some wounds that never quite fully heal, and so, on top of her lingering concern for Master Kenobi, she finds herself fearing that the terrible scar her friend Sabé will doubtlessly carry on her heart from the pain of Padmé’s death will end up being one of those, and wishing that she could be there, to try to do something ( _anything_!) to help cushion the blow, when she learns the truth of her friend’s demise and the wound is dealt.  
  
 **70.) Poison:** Knowledge of the Sith Lord’s identity burns in her gullet and sears her blood and brain like a poison, and she wonders, helplessly, how they could’ve all been so very blind for so very long a period of time.  
  
 **71.) Enigma:** The whole Chosen One spiel of the Jedi Order has always been something of an enigma to her, and it’s only when it becomes clear that the High Council has been entirely mistaken about the identity of their Chosen One that the prophecies even begin to start to make any kind of sense whatsoever to her.  
  
 **72.) Scramble:** She feels like she’s desperately scrambling to keep up, like a woman up in the mountains caught on the edge of a shelf of rotten ice crumbling rapidly away beneath her feet will scramble to find something solid to stand on or to at least cling to, and, every time she thinks that there’s solid ground beneath her feet, something new comes along and smashes it violently away so that all of her sense of certainty crumbles out from underneath her again.  
  
 **73.) Exchange:** She wouldn’t actually exchange her job or her responsibilities or just about any part of her life involving her work for any one else’s life in the galaxy; there are days, though (often when the tiredness in her bones feels like it could crack her open and shatter her to pieces, with a single wrong move), when, once – just _once_ – she’d like to be the one people turn to for answers and care enough about (specifically) to be willing to do anything for her, without hesitation or question, instead of being just another young ally of Bail Organa or the now deceased former Queen and Senator of Naboo.  
  
 **74.) Collapse:** She deliberately pushes herself to the point of collapse, to prove herself worthy of being openly accepted as an acknowledged member of Bendu Masters Kenobi and Skywalker’s extended clan, and it’s all worth it (more than worth it, really), to see them look at her and truly _see_ her and to receive those gorgeous smiles of welcoming.  
  
 **75.) Born:** _This_ is what she was born for, to help her new family with the restructuring and saving of the entire galaxy – Republic and Jedi Order and all – and, though the price is indubitably high, she knows, somehow, that, in the end, it will all be worth it.  
  


　

**Author's Note:**

>  **Clarification Note:** One of the reasons why my AU **Star Wars** series _**You Became to Me**_ is so entirely not even nearly complete has to do with the fact that I really started writing at the wrong end of the prequel trilogy for an AU (in my defense, though, when I started what became my _Thwarting the Revenge of the Sith_ trio, which is over a million words long, I thought I was doing a sort of one-shot fix-it based on an idea I got for "fixing" RotS by changing something that happens very near the end of James Luceno's EU novel _Labyrinth of Evil_ , which is set immediately prior to RotS). One of these days, I fully intend to rectify that problem by going back and starting from the beginning, with an AU rewrite of TPM, which is why I took the time to do a character study sketch for a supporting character like Mon Mothma. In addition to playing a fairly prominent role in sequels planned for my _Thwarting the Revenge of the Sith_ trio, she'll very likely be showing up again, in a more prominent role, after I get around to that AU rewrite of TPM and when I get around to follow-up stories set in between that AU rewrite and my _Thwarting the Revenge of the Sith_ trio. Folks might want to keep that in mind when reading this, since technically this is spoilerish for some AU novels/stories that I haven't gotten around to writing yet!


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